Harry Potter: A Free Runner Story Against the Death Eaters
by Peace Revolution
Summary: Harry Potter is a triathlon and parkour champion. Watch as he takes on the Death Eaters!
1. Chapter 1: Bristol

**Harry Potter: A Free Runner Story Against the Death Eaters**

by Peace Revolution

.

Harry Potter was a Parkour Champion.

Planting both hands upon the ledge, he cat-leapt upwards and ran for sheer dear life. At the end, he jumped onto the roof, roving with his feet and struggling to make the crossing.

He pulled his wand out of his sleeve with his teeth.

" _Wingardium leviosa_ ," he muttered. Flying upwards, he clung to his wand and landed on both feet onto the roof. Looking around, he spotted two billowing capes behind him. Damn! The Death Eaters were catching up.

As well as Dumbledore's Army, Harry Potter had trained in the triathlon and parkour. He had succeeded in running, swimming and flying. Muggle parkour had come as a shock, never really knowing much about it beforehand, and he loved arching his body through the twists and flips. Mixing running with parkour was new and was today…

"Stupefy!" he yelled. The Death Eater dodged, and shot back with a beam of jade light. Not Avada Kedavra, but something that could be as deadly…

Harry Potter rolled and ducked behind a large brick chimney. Dust clouded as the beam landed close-by. He pulled a Muggle gun from a pocket, but it misfired as he leant around the chimney, and misfired again when the trigger jammed from him pulling it so much. Harry threw the gun away over his shoulder. He dampened his sleeve and washed his glasses instead. They were starting to fog up with so much humidity. It was a very hot, damp July this year.

Harry was somewhere in Bristol, he estimated. As soon as the Death Eaters hit Diagon Alley, he'd Apparated to anywhere he could—which was what one of the moving picture postcards had shown him in the small tourist shop.

It was his birthday soon. Ginny had promised him a surprise party, although he'd been warned beforehand without her knowing.

" _Serpensortia_!" a large black snake crashed into the red brick chimney. Harry grinned, despite his former bad luck. They don't know it's me, he thought, and hissed to the snake in Parseltongue. " _How many Death Eaters can you sense_?"

" _Dunno_ ," said the snake. " _Woss a Death Eater_?"

" _The shooting maniacs in black robes and masks,_ " replied Harry, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He felt through his own robes for a portkey, but it had led to diagon alley only and had deactivated.

" _Five_ ," whispered the snake and disappeared as the Death Eater shouted, " _Finite Incantatem_!"

Five to take out, thought Harry.

As he gripped his wand, he thought, Damn! He retrieved his gun, shoved it into his pocket for further use, and gripped a small potions vial. He threw it over the chimney stack where it exploded across the ground, leaving a trail of cascading vapour and a bad smell of eggs.

The Death Eater screamed and fled backwards, hopefully over the edge of the roof.

Remembering that his birthday was just in a few days time, Harry leapt out from his hiding place and slid over the edge of the roof, firing large bursts from his wand; he grabbed the drainpipe with his feet and his thighs, and went hand-over-hand downwards till he was only two storeys up. Reaching for a nearby windowsill, he grabbed this then dropped and rolled when he hit the ground. He got to his feet, fixed his glasses upon his face, and brushed off his jeans. Parkour, he remembered, was hell on jeans. They were a bit too stiff, and left shoddy from all the manoeuvres. Somehow, his left knee had ripped.

Next, he should call the Ministry and Auror backup. He flipped open his phone, adjusted the seashells, and facetimed Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Sir," he said, "I've got five Death Eaters after me, but I don't think they know who I am."

"You're limping," said Kingsley, concerned. Harry Potter ignored him, and continued to beat it. "Don't worry, I'll send backup. You're in Bristol, is that right?"

"Yes, I think so. They followed me from Diagon Alley, sir."

Harry scouted around for street signs and found none. He was in an industrial area, not residential. The shops around him were for home improvements and builders yards.

Ahead, there was the familiar scary billow of black and white masks. Despite looking like a Muggle, Harry was pretty sure that they recognised his lightning bolt scar from afar. He shut his phone off and pocketed it quickly. He raised his wand.

" _Stupefy_!" Harry ran like hell in the opposite direction, and leapt over a pile of sand. He landed on a metal pipe yet to be installed. Luckily for him, all the builders were on a tea break.

He balanced on an iron girder and leapt up to the next one, jutting out of the scaffolding. And again, up onto the tarpaulin roof. He lay flat and shot at the Death Eater attempting to fly up the building.

Four to go! When he peeped over the edge again, the Death Eater was sprawled over the giant metal pipe and twitching. The other Death Eaters didn't so much as help as swoop over the building site, trying to locate their prey.

The tarpaulin made crinkling noises whenever he tried to move, so he forced to wait until a big gust of wind whooshed through the building. He rolled over, and crawled flat on his stomach until he was off the tarpaulin and onto wooden scaffolding. He crouched, and shot at one unlucky builder until she was unconscious. And again at the next wondering what happened, until he had a pile of snoozy builders almost on top of each other.

He made a mental note to tell the Ministry about it, so all the Muggles would lose only a small amount of memory, when a Death Eater floated by, frothing at the mouth through the mask.

A rabid Death Eater, thought Harry, and a chill ran down his back. He wished for the nth time that day that he had his Invisibility Cloak with him, not a small brown paper bag in his pocket with moveable candy in it from Diagon Alley. Chocolate frogs, he thought of longingly. The Death Eater was facing the other way, and its movements were reminding him of Dementors.

Harry snuck up behind him or her, and shouted a binding spell. The rabid Death Eater didn't know what had happened, and landed, struggling, atop the pile of sleeping builders!

It spat, "Muggles! Filthy Muggles—oh fuck, it's really Potter."

"Who are you?" asked Harry. He held his wand under the Death Eater's throat. "Tell me."

"Brandon," said the Death Eater. There was enough froth to look like he had been brushing his teeth a lot.

"Before we begin, what's all that froth?"

The Death Eater shrugged.

"Personal problem?" asked Harry, trying again.

"Just something from the boss."

"Who's your boss these days? Voldemort's dead."

Brandon squirmed against his ropes. "No one you know. All the regulars you sent to Azkaban, Potter!"

"All the regulars are dead," replied Harry. "Why are you following me?"

"You're an Auror, aren't you? We thought we'd get some mudblood on his own."

"Don't say that word!" Harry gritted his teeth. Froth fell out of Brandon's mouth.

"What word?" said Brandon, innocently. "You said the Dark Lord's name."

" _Stupefy_!" yelled Harry, putting an end to the conversation. Brandon slumped over. Harry cast Mobilicorpus, and lifted him into the air. He rose over the side of the building and fell into the pile of sand.

Harry opted to slide down a metal girder that hung from a crane, over the metal pipe and skidded up the side of the pile. When he tried to pick up Brandon, however, the ropes came up empty.

"Miss me?" asked Brandon, reaching for his wand the same time another Death Eater appeared. He Disapparated with a crack.

"Potter!" she murmured. " _Serpensortia_!"

A big black snake erupted from her wand sporting deadly green poisonous fangs. It lunged at Harry Potter, who staggered down the pile, across the pipe, wielding his wand like a sword and swiping side to side at the glancing blows the fangs gave off.

" _Stop_!" Harry managed to hiss.

The snake ceased attacking and fell into its own coils. " _So stupid_ ," it said. It rose like a cobra and spat poison at the Death Eater. She took it on the arm.

Robes drenched, the Death Eater forgot for a moment it was a spell, rather like Harry had. He wondered what she'd done different. " _Finite_ —" he began to say, when the snake spoke. " _Strange suffering shocks so serenely_ ," said the snake to him. Despite not having a piece of Voldemort's soul inside him, Harry Potter still retained his snake-speaking trait, but it was a little fuzzy these days.

" _Finite_ _Incantatem_ ," managed Harry Potter at last. The snake disappeared in a swirl of magic.

The next hit was like a bludger. Harry took it in the stomach, just to the side, and planted backwards into the sand. He groaned and felt the area. He located his wand and held it up. He tended to rely on stupefy as a tactic all too often. He shot off a nose-diving spell in haste. The female Death Eater plummeted into the sand herself, face first.

Bent over, Harry Potter stood up, and Disapparated back to the tarpaulin high above. The snoozing heap of Muggle builders was still rocking the wooden scaffolding. Some of them were snoring. Patching himself up, he was suddenly freed of the bludger curse; he straightened up.

His seashells clanged. Honestly, he'd never get used to them… "Kingsley, here."

"Sir, all my Death Eaters have gotten away. Sorry, sir."

"Never mind, Harry," said Kingsley, gold earring swaying as he too was out and about. It looked like Knockturn Alley. "Return to Diagon Alley at once."

Just then, a familiar female-sounding Death Eater rose into mid-air above a certain sand dune and floated into a giant metal girder. Parkour awaits! She backflipped off it, still floating, and rushed around and over to skip up the crane's large pulley ropes. Sitting atop the crane, she looked all for the world like a giant black crow.

Harry, on the phone, made a small yet simple precision jump to the next row of scaffolding, and held his wand between his teeth, fumbling with the seashells. "Got one, sir. I mean, I haven't gotten her yet, though..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Marching to the whip of the drum**

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Brandon sniggered. He contacted at least nine more Death Eaters for the pursuit and capture of Harry Potter, junior Auror. He was hiding in Bristol, thereabouts, near Muggles and had been isolated by the dear Sophia and her serpensortia spell. Despite claims to the contrary, Harry Potter had retained his parseltongue abilities, and hadn't managed a complete hiss to the spell. He lay, bandaged and captured in a sand dune.

"He's away at the seaside," said one Death Eater to another.

Draco Malfoy heard of it as "oh, I do like to be beside the seaside" and that the entire magical trio had been captured, till Goyle had clarified that it was Potter only.

Despite Voldemort being uncanningly dead, the younger members of the Death Eaters were still in force, and still causing copious amounts of terror. Potter had been selected as an Auror within the last year, and was turning more into an athlete than a crime-busting wizard. All the newspapers preferred the athlete, however.

When Draco Apparated, the building site was clear. Muggles trotted past the builders yard without a care in the world. By the looks of things, a large clear dome had been placed over the area to deter them.

"I did that," said Sophia. She was in her mid-twenties. "Potter took out the rest."

"Potter?" said Goyle incredulously. "He's a Muggle-loving coward!"

&.

Meanwhile, Potter was stumbling about on top of the large structure. Despite most of it being wooden, a lot of metal was hanging or jutting around it. Piles of sand lay forlornly around on the ground, near large cylinders and a hole, where one of the cylinders was installed already. So this was how Muggles made their houses?

Draco sneered. He'd rather turn the plumbing hole into a chamber of secrets; the Founders era had been a lot more advanced than whatever the Muggles were planning _now_!

A tuft of jet black hair had been magnified in mid-air situated right on top. A lightning bolt scar came and slipped from view.

About a dozen young invisible-y Death Eaters rose their wands, letting off a blast of red and green lights. Goyle shot a snake out of his, and Crabbe emitted flames. Draco rolled his eyes. He was in at the baby pool end, wasn't he? He moved up the ranks until he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Sophia herself.

"Are we visible?" he panted, trying to keep himself under control.

"No," she said. "Only the puppet."

Two puppet Death Eaters stood before them. One was now being controlled by Brandon, and the other was being coaxed into looking less rabid. Froth flew out of its mouth and unfortunately out of the other end as well.

"What happened to that one?" he asked.

"Diagon Alley – Wizard Wheezes, we think. Someone must have thrown something."

Despite the froth, they managed to get it airbourne where it trailed another invisible-to-Potter pipe where they could see and hear through. Froth, however, had gotten into it.

It flew into the air and through the pipe mirror they could see Potter sheltered against the wind. They armed its puppet wand, and shot a loose wild curse at him.

He ducked, and showing off his athletic arms, crouched atop the wooden beam, holding his wand between his teeth.

"What's he hit you with?" asked Draco. "Stupefy?"

"No, he hit all the Muggles with that. We got _Finite Incantatem,_ " she added whiningly.

"And he controlled the snake?"

"No, he fought it, like with a rapier. Using his wand, I mean."

"I see," said Draco, and reminded himself of Snape. "Was it his wand or the Elder Wand?"

"It was neither," snapped Sophia. "I couldn't see it well, because Brandon was still frothing it up a storm."

"So, Potter's got a new wand and the public haven't found it out yet."

"It was probably his. Not yours, if that's what you're asking."

"I've _got_ mine," retorted Draco. "He gave it back." He was almost certain it was the same wand. Trust Potter to keep his and return a decoy. He hadn't used it since.

There was a murmur from the tent. Potter had for some reason decided to balance himself with a handstand. He was doing a handstand, metres up from the ground, just for the hell of it. Didn't he know that there were Death Eaters down here.

"Fan out," ordered Brandon, puppet-master. "Not you, the puppets!"

Each junior Death Eater, including Draco, got lumbered with a false set of robes and a life-like dummy inside. If Draco didn't know better, it felt like a deceased Dementor in there wearing a white mask.

They ordered into rank and file, and let off a lot of cascading pipes backwards into the hands, each equipped with a horn and a mirror, for listening and looking into. They could shoot spells straight up the pipes, near instantaneous.

Potter changed hands, and slid down again. He lay on the wooden beam, panting, and wiping the sweat from his brow.

He appeared oblivious to the froth, despite the puppet standing out in plain sight.

&.

Harry Potter panted, but felt fantastic! He'd repaired his ripped jean leg with Spellotape – an Auror keeps everything in their pockets – and he'd also cleared the misfiring gun. Frothing Brandon looked dormant out there and didn't react to anything.

If anything, he'd looked like he'd been replaced by a frothing Dementor. Something was up, but Harry Potter didn't know what. He just knew he could do anything, and Brandon had stopped responding.

Meanwhile, down on the ground, there'd been a small light display from only four Death Eaters. They'd shot flames, added snakes and Cruciatus, and spun round in circles with their arms out like aeroplane wings, before the sole female-speaking Death Eater had them all under her control again. If anything, they seemed a pretty young bunch.

Harry reloaded the gun, and polished his wand, small tasks to do under Brandon's beady eye.

Then, without warning, he'd shot at Brandon, straight at his wand arm. The bullet slipped through easily, and Brandon jerked his other arm up and over.

"Aargh! What didya do that for?" Froth flowed out of his mouth and nose, but no blood stained his robe arm.

"So, you're alive," said Harry, the hero. "It should've been your heart, but I want you in alive! Come quietly, and I won't say anything else."

"Not bloody likely," said Brandon. He dodged the ropes thrown at him with ease. He hovered in mid-air, looking even more like a wraith.

Harry said, "What would you say your crimes are?"

"Eating Wizard Wheezes without a licence," he replied. The froth had ganged up behind the mask and was threatening to leave via the eyeholes.

"Breaking and entering a merchant navy's yard without a permit?" joked Harry. "No, seriously, you should do something about that foam."

It spilt. Brandon could barely see. Harry hit him with more ropes, and at last managed to hug one rope around the man – and another looped around both legs. He pulled the last like a lasso, and Brandon toppled over in mid-air. He hung upside down, again with no blood spilling.

Harry lashed him horizontally to the wooden scaffolding, before finally hitting him with, " _Stupefy_!"

One down, four more to go.

&.

Draco and the others watched as the frothing puppet was overcome. As soon as it was shot at by the infernal Muggle device, Brandon had taken over. Potter looked distressingly smug.

He strode down the Muggle beam structure until he was at a metal bit jutting out. Then he'd placed both hands down and swung over the edge in like a backflip, and rolled out onto yet another metal bit further down. He'd jumped off the end, and landed with an _ooh_! from Crabbe, and turned into a forward flip, then slid down a pipe yet to be installed. He skidded to a halt, and looked back and up at the ride he'd taken.

"Stop that," he'd said to Vincent. "It's Potter. We're supposed to be capturing him."

Potter leapt from one sand pile to another until he reached the bottom of the crane. Here, he got his wand out and jetted out ash, as if searching for fingerprints.

&.

Unbeknownst to anyone, one Muggle builder had started to stir. She was at the bottom of the pile, and cried out, "Help!" thinking that part of the scaffolding had collapsed on her.

Harry Potter was at the bottom when he heard Brandon making scuffling noises. He was plotting where Sophia had gone – up the crane somewhere; it looked like a heady climb, if he were to do it.

"Shut up, Brandon!" he yelled. In reply, Brandon swerved round in the ropes, and tried to drip froth over his head. It merely ran down the wall.

The wall! Harry headed over, and dusted for prints. Sure enough, he'd measured her foot-size in the sand, and unbeknownst to _him_ , Sophia was naught but a puppet.

The Muggle builder, named Helen, tried to crawl out from underneath. She spied light and felt air, and relaxed a bit. Next, she wriggled around and searched for her phone. She found it.

The next thing she heard was 999. She told them where she was and what had collapsed (or so she thought).

&.

Draco was surprised when a Muggle fire-engine drew up outside. Brandon looked over his shoulder; he was having fun taunting Potter.

Several Muggles got out and roamed around outside. They didn't have to do anything. Most of the Muggles were murmuring outside the dome about kids and pranks. They all got back inside again, until Goyle hit the engine's wheels with spikes.

The Muggles were doomed. Crabbe grabbed one round the neck, and hauled him inside the dome.

The other junior Death Eaters responded likewise, and soon they had three Muggles upside-down inside the dome, but unable to see the Death Eaters.

"What the hell is going on?" one yelled, upside-down.

"It's aliens!" cried another.

One yelled into his phone device, presumably to the emergency services.

From up on the scaffolding, a woman screamed. Potter looked up. He was behind the sand dunes and hadn't seen much.

Draco guided the puppets round, but the Muggles still couldn't see them. His suspicions about them being dead Dementors blossomed.

Potter looked up to Dementors-cum-Death Eaters taunting Muggles. But first, he responded to the scream. He looked up and Disapparated.

&.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Muggles**

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Helen was dragged out from the bottom of the pile. Indeed, it was aliens, disguised as a handsome young man wearing denim and a purple T-shirt.

"Don't hurt me," she whimpered.

He looked surprised. "I'm trying to help." Her workers were hanging around in mid-air, and he placed them side-by-side back on the scaffolding. "Sorry about that. I didn't think you'd wake so soon, ma'am."

"It's Helen," she blurted out. "Are you an alien?"

He laughed. "No, I'm a wizard. Don't worry. There'll be a man in black soon to wipe your memories."

"What are you… what are you here for?"

"I'm trying to apprehend them." He pointed. "By the way, don't confuse them with the man in black."

"Oh, you're plain clothed police." She sunk a bit. "I thought you'd be more exciting than that."

It turned out that Helen couldn't see them, not even Brandon nor the ropes. They did remind Harry a bit of Dementors, which Muggles couldn't see.

"I'll take your word for it," she said nervously. Harry led her back to where she wanted, down a ladder, and back along the scaffolding to where a booth stood. She opened the door to the office, and sat down heavily.

She twiddled a pen. "I'll just wait until the others wake up then."

"Good day, ma'am," said Harry, and Disapparated back to the original metal pipe. To his horror, the Death Eaters were Muggle-baiting with firefighters.

The fire-engine was sagged all along one side, and it looked like masses of clean up to do. The hoses were pouring out turquoise liquid and the main cab was on fire with purple flames.

"Help us!" cried the Muggles.

Harry stormed into the crowd, wishing he could do something better than Stupefy! But he stuck with his principles and his sole useful tactic. He whipped out his wand. " _Stupefy_!"

.

Potter had knocked out three puppets and rescued zero Muggles. The Death Eaters fought to invigorate their left hand, left numbed by Potter's stupid Stupefying. He was getting down the first bunch of Muggles, when Goyle craftily stuck out a leg and tripped Potter over. He landed face first into the ground.

.

Something tripped Harry over. Meanwhile, Brandon had fallen quiet, and the others were rolling around on the ground. It was just Mrs Serpensortia left. Harry raised her wand with his own, and shot at her with his gun. The bullet hung in mid-air and dived towards the floor. He stuffed the gun back into his belt, and hit her with a lightening bolt. Her robe fluffed up with static, and she leapt back.

Harry Potter defeated her, and tied her up like the others. The Muggles cheered as ropes flew out of his wand, then to their view, disappeared into a new dimension.

In fact, one of the ropes had. Its end trailed off into nothingness.

.

"Vincent," whispered Draco, because this was so embarrassing. "On your foot!"

Crabbe looked down to see where Potter had lassoed him. He trod out of it.

"We were almost discovered," announced Sophia. The crowd backed off until Crabbe was left in a bare circle.

"But I did get it off," he said gruffly.

Potter pulled the ropes taut, and it disappeared.

"Why do we have to have them captured?" asked Goyle. "Spoils all the fun."

"Because we don't want them to not know it's us," explained Brandon patiently. "We'll get them back soon, anyway."

"When?"  
" _Now_."

.

Potter watched in dismay as one Death Eater/Dementor part-wiggled out of one rope, and holding what looked to be a portkey, had them all Disapparate without anyone else holding on or touching it. Bloody Death Eaters! It looked like a new method. He made a mental note to contact Kingsley.

The Muggle Protection department of the Ministry showed up, and cured the Muggles of any long-standing ailments and jinxes they had, and fixed the fire engine.

"And will you all look over here, please," said the man in black as they had their memories wiped out at the same time as the builders.

,

Harry Potter returned to Diagon Alley, where he commenced a wall-run. He ran up the wall, over the Wizard Wheezes sign, and slammed his fist against the wall, to turn off and forward flip to the ground. Then he arched into the air, for another precision leap back into the door-frame where he tried to wall-run, but couldn't get very far off the ground.

To his surprise, he met Ron, who was supposed to be an Auror, but was currently wearing a staff apron and uniform.

"Ron?" panted Harry. It had been tiring looking after Muggles, like Helen. "What are you doing here, instead of Auroring?"

Ron looked guilty. "I don't enjoy it any more, Harry," he said honestly. "It's not like school."

"You could stick it out for another year," suggested Harry. "You've done one year already."

Ron sighed. "I could, but this is way more fun. George needed help today after the attack."

Harry patted him on the arm. "Very well," he said, sounding like Hermione to his own ears. "You have a day off."

"Thanks, mate."

.

Harry peeled his shirt off and dropped it on the sofa. He yawned. It had been a long durous day, and he was looking forward to a hot shower. Ginny came over and kissed him. For only a few weeks now, they had their own place. Harry provided, and Ginny worked on her Quidditch skills. She was trying for a place professionally just after she left Hogwarts.

"What happened today at Diagon Alley?" she asked.

Harry groaned. "Never mind Diagon Alley. I had this rabid chap in Bristol with his friends Muggle-baiting. Do you know they've got a new portkey system? The whole lot I tied up, gone, whoosh, just like that!"

"Sorry to hear that, Harry," said Ginny, planting her arms on his shoulders. He stretched.

"I'd prefer a massage," he said, hinting at more.

"No," she said. "Think of me, later. I've got to practice." They had a small Quidditch pitch set up outside for exactly that.

Harry kissed her again. It was a tiny flat, but miles better at magic than any old stinky Grimmauld Place. It was set firmly in the countryside, rather like the Burrow. He followed her out to Quidditch practice, where they shot Quaffle hoops together.


End file.
